The Last Time

There is an idea in the world of mindfulness of “the last time.” Let me explain how it works. One day, there was “the last time” we carried our eldest to bed, because now she walks by herself. I could not have told you exactly when it would happen, and for the many nights beforehand I had no idea that the last time was even approaching. It took me by surprise. 

Then there was the last time I went snowboarding, because life got busy and I’m no longer interested in risking a tear to my ACL. I had no idea when I worked my way down the powdery slope on Copper Mountain that these were some of my last moments.

There was the last time I clocked in to my shift as a bartender at Lake & Irving before moving out of state. The last time I spoke to my classmate Daniel before he was killed in a car accident. 

This concept can be orienting, if we’ll agree to view this as seen from this side of eternity. When our second child was potty training I was convinced that he would never get it, and that lack of perspective drove me to frustration at times. Ok, most of the time. I actually believed that I was going to be wiping him down and cleaning up messes forever. Forever. And then one day he got it, and all of a sudden there was the last time I cleaned my little boy (who is now quite skilled at creating other messes of greater proportion… I feel that will never end either).

Honestly, I often find myself drifting into a kind of tunnel vision that goes something like, this is my life now. This is forever. I’m going to be at the DMV, forever.

I am going to be in this grief forever.

I am going to try and control others' opinion of me, forever.

I am going to battle with anger, forever.

My tunnel vision not only reveals the undercurrent of fear and hopelessness, but the lack of perspective. 

There was a time when the grief of losing my friend brought me to my knees. And then one day, gradually, the ache faded to acceptance and expectation. My friend joined an ever-increasing group of people that I hope to see again one day. The idea of the last time can orient me, it can make me live with more intention. 

There will be a last time I hear the voice of a friend or a loved one. There will be a last time that I go for a walk through my favorite grove of trees.

A last time we couldn’t tell our story without physically shutting down. A last time we felt that no one understood our pain. A last time suffered at the hands of an abuser. A last time our children drove us to the brink of patience, and beyond.

May the idea of the last time cause me to live with more presence for the good things, more patience for the trying, and more hope for the seemingly unbearable.